Perfect Blade
by Vash The Humanoid Sunshower
Summary: Pilot 01 gets his codename. POV Dr. J story, pre-series. No pairings (duh--Heero's like, a kid here).


**Author's Note:** This story is set before the series. I wrote it for the "Before the Beginning" challenge. It's too short to submit, but I liked the story enough, I figured I'd post it here. Dr J and Pilot 01 vignette. 

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I don't own Gundam Wing. Just taking the characters out for a spin. 

**Perfect Blade:**

I am a cruel man but not a dishonest one. It is a poor scientist who cannot be honest of his faults, at least with himself. Not that my faults are hidden. I wear them on my body like a badge: faulty legs, reconstructed hand, imperfect vision. 

But it isn't my job to be perfect. I've never had that gift. My talent is to create, and of my creations I demand the highest service. Like the boy in front of me. My creation. My perfect soldier.

"Report." I lean back in my chair. My mechanical hand rubs my cheek. I built it far too well. It reacts like a hand. Only when it touches me do I remember it's metal and not flesh. 

"The information was acquired." He places a stack of minidisks in the center of my desk.

"And the complex?"

"The data was purged, as ordered." He shows no fear, no guilt. My creation. He has no name, no date of birth that he remembers. By his bone density he is an adolescent, barely fourteen with tousled brown hair and knife edged blue eyes. Since he was nine, give or take, I've trained him. 

Until today, he's never lied to me. 

I should be angry. And I am. Very. But more than that I'm curious. Was it the dog? The dead puppy he carried in his arms back to base after his first mission? I remember that broke him, but in the year since he's reformed himself, colder and stronger than before.

I drum my fingers together; the metallic tips click in counterpoint to my thoughts. I say, "The complex stands." 

"Yes."

"Orders required the complete destruction of the database, including autonomous backups. Unit 01 was given explosives for this purpose."

"Yes."

"Yet the complex stands."

"Yes." He offers no excuses. No anger. No fear. 

I might have yelled. Or used pain. But while I am a cruel man, I am also a patient one. "Explain."

He shows no hesitation. "The data was purged. As insurance, minimal use of explosives was used to terminate the database. Further destruction of the complex was unnecessary."

He plays ignorant too well. I let some of my anger enter my voice. "You know as well as I the scientists were included targets."

"Yes." His eyes meet mine, flat, unyielding. The same look as when I found him, asked him if he wanted to be a Gundam Pilot. His tone is the same, even as he defies me now. 

I am not a perfect man, but that doesn't mean I enjoy being wrong.

"You willfully ignored your orders."

"No."

"What? How so?" It's not often I'm surprised.

"All backups were terminated. Including Jeremy Teasdale, who due to illness, was unable to attend the meeting this morning."

"I see." A smile touches my lips. Once again, my creation outstrips me. I'm a cruel man, but a fair one. "I suppose I won't question your operational procedure from this point."

He shrugs. "It's your right. The terminations, not inclusive of Teasdale, did consume an extra ten point seven three minutes."

It isn't an apology, or a call for praise. The boy doesn't understand either, I don't think. Nor should he. For five years I have molded him to become my perfect soldier. My perfect creation. He has broken, but never failed. For that I admire him. I can only admire one who possesses a trait I will never have. 

"We always want our children to do better than us."

His brow furrows. "Sir?"

I resist the urge to tousle his hair. My metal fingers touch. Click. Click. "You don't like to kill boy, do you."

"I do what must be done."

"Yes. I believe that." I wave a hand towards the door. "You are dismissed."

He turns. His shoulders relax, so slightly, I doubt anyone else could have noticed. But my goggles, the enhancement for my imperfect eyes, record it all. He would bathe his hands in blood rather than allow unnecessary blood to be shed.

"Boy?"

He stops. 

"I believe your code name will be Heero Yuy."

"The pacifist?" A hint of surprise, shock for a boy as controlled as my perfect soldier.

"Yes." I grin. "It seems fitting. Now go. Eat and prepare yourself. The next phase of your training begins tomorrow."

"Sir." His feet make no sound as he leaves.

The perfect blade requires the perfect mix of steels: soft and rigid. I am a cruel man. I know this. It is a fault I carry inside, one of many that bars me from perfection. But it does not take a perfect man to forge a perfect blade. It only takes a man of discernment, and skill. 

**Thassal**** Folks**! Hope this entertained. I figured I'd try a POV Dr. J story. I think it's within cannon, if not, just count it as AU. I figure this scene takes place 1-2 years before the series. 


End file.
